With an eager bound, she flung herself across the space between them. He caught her in his arms, but her momentum knocked him off-balance. They tumbled backward across the bed.
Deliciously tangled, they lay face-to-face, both of them breathing hard. Where her ear pressed his chest, she could hear the slamming of his heart.
Turning her head, she kissed one of his nipples, drawing it slightly into her mouth and giving it a little flick with her tongue. She’d never done anything like that before, but when a low growl rose from his throat, she did it again, feeling his flesh shrink and harden at her touch. She loved the taste of him, the way he smelled, and the glorious sensation of being cradled in his arms.
“If you keep doing that, I won’t be responsible for my behavior,” he muttered.
“That’s the idea.” It was strange how emboldened she felt. She had knocked on his door and literally begged him to heal the paralyzing fear that had haunted her since the rape. But the fear was gone, banished by a shared love with this strong, gentle man and the sense of safety that he gave her.
Moving upward, she offered him her mouth for a long, sensual kiss. Buck let her tongue play with his before responding with his own deep thrusts. He was encouraging her to take the lead, she realized, giving her control over her fear. For that, she loved him even more.
Now he took over, pulling up her tee to brush kisses down the curve of her throat, stroking her breasts, nibbling them, then moving lower. A warm, liquid weight stirred in the depths of her belly. As he slid her leggings down, she felt a shimmering pulse and a subtle ooze of moisture between her thighs to make her ready. So this was how it was supposed to be.
She moaned softly and tugged at the sheet that bound his hips. His caressing paused. “Are you—?” He didn’t have to finish the sentence.
“Yes.” Cheyenne had gotten an IUD after the rape, as soon as she knew she wasn’t pregnant. A girl—especially a rodeo girl—couldn’t be too careful. The thought flickered in her mind how lovely it would be to have this man’s babies. But that would have to wait.
He nudged the sheet aside. Instinctively, Cheyenne closed her eyes. This was the moment she’d yearned for—and feared. Unbidden, the memory reared its ugly head—the terror of being trapped beneath that big, heaving body, the size of him, and the tearing pain, not just the pain, but the humiliation that had come with each thrust.
This was Buck. This was the man she loved. Still …
“Open your eyes, Cheyenne.” His voice was gentle, coaxing. Lying on his side next to her, he kissed her. Then he rolled onto his back. “It’s your night to ride, lady,” he said. “I’m all yours.”
“How did you know?” His understanding astounded her. “Oh, Buck.”
He guided her hips, lowering her over his erect shaft. When he slid inside her it was as if they’d been fashioned for each other. No pain. Nothing but the silky friction of his flesh gliding against hers. A tear slid down her cheek.
She took a moment to settle into place. He was lying back on the pillow, gazing up at her. In the dim light, she could see that he was smiling. His mouth moved as if he were about to speak. She silenced him with a finger across his lips. “No words,” she whispered. Then, instinctively, she began to move.
With every stroke, the exquisite sensations shimmered upward. Her eyes closed. Her head fell back. It was as if her whole body was singing.
She moaned, stroking harder as the intensity mounted. His strong hands clasped her hips, driving him deeper. Shudders rippled through her body, exploding as he gasped and spilled his seed inside her.
Spent, she lay in his arms. She might have chosen to stay like this forever, but this was their reality. “I need to go soon,” she said. “Mother could be waking up before long.”
“I’ve got to get going, too,” he said. “I need to load Chief and get on the road. Then, when I get back to theranch, I’ll need to look after your stallion. If you’re with your mother in the morning, I won’t see you before I leave.”
“So it’s to be goodbye for now.”
“We can keep in touch. I’ll text you, or call if there’s a good time.”
“I can stay a little longer.” She snuggled against him.
With a gentle kiss, he eased her away and sat up. “If you stay, I’ll start wanting you again. That could be trouble for both of us. Go on; we’ll work things out.”
Reluctantly, she slipped out of bed, found her nightclothes, and pulled them on. “I love you,” she murmured, bending to give him a light kiss.
“I love you, too. And this isn’t over. Now let’s get moving.”
As he swung out of bed, She slipped out through the door. The hallway was empty. Back in the room, her mother was still snoring. Wide awake now, Cheyenne rearranged the bed and slipped between the sheets. Through the wall, she could hear the faint sounds of Buck moving in the next room, running water, getting ready to leave. The door closed. The elevator dinged, and he was gone.
As she lay in the darkness, her thoughts wandered to a fearful question. What if she were to go back to sleep, then wake to discover that the heaven she’d found in Buck’s arms had been a dream?
Sam had spent a sleepless night going over every detail of the crime. Like pieces from the devil’s own puzzle, the clues swam in his tired mind, joining, then separating, fitting, then crumbling where the edges came together. He was getting a migraine. But with time running out, there was nothing to do for it except take a painkiller and soldier on.
The urge to call Jasmine was like a siren’s song in hisears. He needed her cheerful voice, her commonsense advice. And he needed to know she was out there, waiting for him to clear up this god-awful mess so they could be together. But the call wasn’t going to happen. He had promised to honor her wishes and keep his distance. The least he could do was keep that promise.
Now, as the eastern sky began to pale over Las Vegas, he sat facing the large window, his laptop, his phone, and a fresh cup of coffee on the table in front of him. It was Saturday morning, the day of the Run for a Million—a day when anything could happen.